Paul Prescott's Charge eBook

“How could I help it?” asked Paul, earnestly.
“If she had only abused me, I should not
have cared so much, but when she spoke about you, who
have been so kind to me, I could not be silent.”

“I thank you, Paul, for your kind feeling,”
said the old lady, gently, “but we must learn
to bear and forbear. The best of us have our faults
and failings.”

“What are yours, Aunt Lucy?”

“O, a great many.”

“Such as what?”

“I am afraid I am sometimes discontented with
the station which God has assigned me.”

“I don’t think you can be very much to
blame for that. I should never learn to be contented
here if I lived to the age of Methuselah.”

Paul lay quite still for an hour or more. During
that time he formed a determination which will be
announced in the next chapter.

VI.

PAUL’S DETERMINATION

At the close of the last chapter it was stated that
Paul had come to a determination.

This was,—­torunaway.

That he had good reason for this we have already seen.

He was now improving rapidly, and only waited till
he was well enough to put his design into execution.

“Aunt Lucy,” said he one day, “I’ve
got something to tell you.”

The old lady looked up inquiringly.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking
of a long time,—­at least most of the time
since I’ve been sick. It isn’t pleasant
for me to stay here, and I’ve pretty much made
up my mind that I sha’n’t.”

“Where will you go?” asked the old lady,
dropping her work in surprise.

“I don’t know of any particular place,
but I should be better off most anywhere than here.”

“But you are so young, Paul.”

“God will take care of me, Aunt Lucy,—­mother
used to tell me that. Besides, here I have no
hope of learning anything or improving my condition.
Then again, if I stay here, I can never do what father
wished me to do.”

“What is that, Paul?”

Paul told the story of his father’s indebtedness
to Squire Conant, and the cruel letter which the Squire
had written.

“I mean to pay that debt,” he concluded
firmly. “I won’t let anybody say
that my father kept them out of their money. There
is no chance here; somewhere else I may find work
and money.”

“It is a great undertaking for a boy like you,
Paul,” said Aunt Lucy, thoughtfully. “To
whom is the money due?”

“Squire Conant of Cedarville.”

Aunt Lucy seemed surprised and agitated by the mention
of this name.

“Paul,” said she, “Squire Conant
is my brother.”

“Your brother!” repeated he in great surprise.
“Then why does he allow you to live here?
He is rich enough to take care of you.”

“It is a long story,” said the old lady,
sadly. “All that you will be interested
to know is that I married against the wishes of my
family. My husband died and I was left destitute.
My brother has never noticed me since.”